You (Won't) Miss Me
by No C String
Summary: Norway was sure he wouldn't miss Denmark - if he ever disappeared. But after a crazy one night stand and an unfortunate accident, he wasn't so certain anymore. NOTICE: I do NOT own Hetalia. Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.
1. The Graduation Celebration!

"Can you believe it, Norge?!" Denmark pumped his fists up to the sky. "We're high school graduates!"

"Yeah, yeah. What about college?" Norway rolled his eyes.

"We can worry about college tomorrow. Tonight, we party!" Denmark, a bit harshly, nudged Norway in the shoulder.

Surely enough, the two had just graduated. Everyone was still buzzing with excitement, proud and relieved to finally be finished with high school.

"Come on! I'm your ride to my house. You don't want to get left behind, do you?" Denmark began running to his car, nearly tripping over his shoelaces.

"Please, be careful," Norway sighed. He didn't know quite why he agreed to attend a party, especially when it was being held at Denmark's.

Denmark rushed over to his car, opening the doors for both Norway and himself. They both took a seat, while Denmark started the car.

"Ya know, you should really get your own ride soon."

"I'm aware of my own problems, thank you."

"Oh! That's great then! I really hope no one gets lost on the way to my house," Denmark chuckled.

"If _you_ can find it, I'm pretty sure everyone else can, as well."

"Whew! That's a relief."

Instead of focusing on the conversation, Norway decided to peer out the window. The road ahead was quite flat and smooth, while the trees that lined it were short and stubby. Nevertheless, the scenery was still decently breathtaking.

"Oh! We're almost there!" Denmark began pulling into a familiar neighborhood. The houses that lined it were moderately spaced apart and appeared to be adequately priced. Finally, he pulled into the driveway in front of his abode.

It appeared that some people had arrived earlier than them. Prussia could be seen leaning on his car, on his phone to kill time. Another car was sloppily parked near the sidewalk.

"Alright! People are here already!" Denmark unlocked the car doors, practically running outside. "Prussia!"

Unlike Denmark, Norway exited the vehicle in a more discreet manner, not interested in conversing with his former classmates. In fact, he barely knew some of them.

"Come on, all of you! I'll unlock the front door."

—

Half an hour later, Denmark's home was filled with fellow graduates and avid partygoers. Happy with the attendance rate, Denmark decided to set out some of his alcohol, turning some music up. Afterwards, he connected a microphone to his speakers, tapping it to see if it worked.

"How are you guys feeling?" Denmark asked. The partygoers shouted a "good!" In response. "That's awesome, because this thing is about to get even better!"

Denmark momentarily placed his microphone down, taking a shaken-up bottle of champagne in his hands. He pulled out the cork, and the liquid splashed into the crowd.

"We have more where that came from!" Denmark pointed to the kitchen counter behind him, where he had placed glasses and multiple bottles of alcohol. The crowd let out a little cheer, and the party continued on.

After taking a glass for himself, he noticed that someone was missing.

_Ah! How could I forget? Where did Norge go? _Denmark thought to himself, _He couldn't have gone very far..._

He searched the outskirts of the first floor, eventually finding Norway in a secluded corner. He was sitting down, hands over his ears. While he was nearly expressionless, Denmark could still tell that Norway was not having a good time.

Worried for his friend, he asked, "Hey, are you alright?"

"Do I look alright to you?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Exactly. It's way too loud, and I don't enjoy parties in the first place. In fact, I don't even know why I'm here."

Denmark frowned, feeling sorry for Norway. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Hey, since you're my best friend, I'll give you special treatment." Denmark extended a hand towards Norway. "Follow me."

Norway was hesitant at first, but finally took the Dane's hand. For the first time in his life, Denmark _discreetly_ made his way upstairs, taking Norway with him.

Denmark quietly opened the door to his bedroom, gesturing for Norway to go in before he did. While being blissfully irksome, Denmark was surprisingly polite — to some.

Humming along to a tune playing downstairs, Denmark opened his drawer, taking out two shot glasses. As he did, a small wrapper fell out, which he examined before putting away in his pocket.

Afterwards, he reached under his bed, taking out a bottle of vodka.

"Ah, here it is. Russia got me this a couple years back. Nice guy, really."

It would be an understatement to say that Norway was intimidated by the bottle.

"I'll show you my favorite part of this room. Hold this for a second, will ya?" Denmark passed the giant bottle of alcohol to Norway, who was surprised by how heavy it was.

Taking the two small glasses from his night-stand, Denmark made his way to his room's window.

Panicked, Norway began to speak, "Wait a second. What do you think you're doing?"

"You'll see. Trust me, it's amazing!"

Norway begged to differ.

Denmark undid the latches on the window, which made a small clicking noise. Next, he raised the window up, making sure there was enough room for a person to go through. Afterwards, he crawled outside. With a small thump, he landed on the roof of the backyard porch.

"Pass me the bottle," Denmark ordered.

A bit reluctant, Norway gave the bottle to Denmark through the open window. Taking it, Denmark set his materials down.

"Okay, now come outside!"

"This is nonsense."

"Come on, it's fun!" Denmark laughed, extending a hand up to Norway. "We'll have our own party up here."

Norway sighed before gently taking Denmark's hand, lowering himself to the roof. It was surprisingly flat and convenient.

Denmark took a seat, tapping the spot next to him. "Sit down."

Norway muttered to himself, "This is a terrible idea." Nevertheless, he sat down next to his energetic friend.

Denmark took the bottle of vodka, undoing the cap. He poured a small amount of liquid in each of the glasses, being careful not to spill anything.

"So, do you drink often?" He took a glass and passed it to Norway.

"I..." Norway hesitated, "No, I don't drink."

"Oh. You don't have to drink it if you don't want to."

"No, I'll try it. I've always wondered why people go so crazy over alcohol." Norway took a small sip. "Wow, it tastes like garbage."

"I know, right?" Denmark agreed. He then proceeded to drink a whole shot in one gulp. "You get used to it after a while."

Seeing that Denmark had the ability to take one shot, straight, Norway became slightly afraid of the spikey-haired individual. He took a few more sips, already feeling his cheeks heating up.

To distract himself, he decided to gaze at the scenery before him. The moon was full, with stars scattered across the night sky. Trees lined the horizon, as if they were trying to reach for the heavens.

For the first time in a while, Norway smiled.

"Peaceful, isn't it? The view's my favorite part." Denmark chuckled, relieved to see that his friend was feeling better.

"I suppose."


	2. Remembrance

Norway could barely remember why he was on Denmark's roof. In fact, he could barely see two feet in front of him.

"Denmaaark, I think I'm going blinddd."

"Whaaat? But your eyes are still open."

'I'm going blinddd! Just help meee!"

Denmark gave Norway a confused look before attempting to get up.

"Nooo! Don't leave me hereee..." Norway tightly clung to Denmark's arm, stopping him from standing up.

"B-B-But I wanna leaaave!"

"Dooon't!" Norway began to weep into Denmark's sleeve. "Don't gooo!" He then gripped Denmark by the shoulders rather harshly.

"Ow! It huuurts!" Denmark whined.

Norway, rather surprised, spontaneously let go of the Dane's shoulders. "Oh, I'm so sorryyy! Wait, w-what do they do to wounds, again? Kiss them, righttt?"

Norway, in a panic, went over to kiss one of Denmark's shoulders. Unfortunately, he jabbed Denmark's mouth with his elbow.

"Ow, not again!" Denmark put a hand to his mouth. "I can taste the blooddd."

"S-Sorryyy!" Norway was feeling pretty bad about himself, as he hurt his friend multiple times. Being drunk didn't help. "H-Here, move your haaand." Norway gingerly moved Denmark's hand away from his mouth.

Denmark gasped, "W-Wait, are you actuaaally going to do this?"

"Hmm? I couldn't heaaar you."

"I-It's nothing importannnt."

Without a thought, Norway planted a kiss on Denmark's lips.

"Woah," Denmark muttered.

Norway giggled, which was very uncharacteristic of him. He stared at Denmark's face, beaming.

Denmark, on the other hand, darted his eyes around, embarrassed. In the end, he succumbed to Norway's gaze. "I-I..."

Norway put a finger to Denmark's lips, shushing him. Once again, he let out a small titter.

Finally relaxing, Denmark let out a little chuckle.

The two peered into each others' eyes for only a few seconds — something that felt like an hour.

Suddenly, Norway began to lean towards Denmark's face.

Denmark squirmed — not because he didn't want to kiss Norway (In fact, he really wanted to.), but because Norway's actions opened up a hidden wound inside him.

_The last time a man kissed you, he broke your heart and left you crying on the floor._

"No," Denmark whispered.

"Whaat?" Norway looked up at Denmark, confused.

"It's n-nothing. Carry onnn." No matter how intoxicated he was, Denmark could never forget that one day — the day his ex left him.

_No! I'm going to have fun tonight. A stupid memory can't knock me down!_

At that moment, Norway, once again, connected his lips with Denmark's.

The kiss lasted longer that time, with the two entangling their fingers in each others' hair. They pulled away, but collided lips almost instantaneously afterwards — even more passionately than the last time.

Denmark could feel himself melting into the kiss, as Norway held him closer. The two felt like they were burning a fire, the flames getting bigger every time they touched lips.

Finally, the two pulled away for the last time, out of breath.

"That's it. W-W-We're going inside. Your bed. N-Now."

—

Norway woke up with a migraine and an unusual feeling of warmth beside him.

_Ugh, what happened yesterday?_

Norway closed his eyes and turned to his side, groaning. His body ached much more than usual. Upon opening his eyes, he saw a sleeping Denmark, who was still smiling in his slumber. Norway scowled, extremely upset.

"Wake up," Norway commanded in a stern voice.

Denmark didn't hear Norway, and continued to sleep. This angered Norway greatly.

"I said, WAKE UP!" Norway slapped Denmark's face.

"Ugh, what?" Denmark groaned.

"First question, what are we doing here, clothingless, like wild animals?" Norway sat up in the bed, outraged.

Denmark smiled, as if he were remembering a sweet memory. "Ah, Norge, you were amazing last night. It really surprised me." Denmark sat up as well, wrapping his arms around Norway.

"Let go of me!" Norway broke free from Denmark's embrace, clearly unamused.

"What..? What's wrong?"

"You must've tricked me. There's no way I would have agreed to this!"

"What do you mean? You... You don't remember?"

"Remember?" Norway laughed. "That's ridiculous." He stood up, picking his clothes off the floor and wearing them. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving."

"Wait-"

"No, I'm leaving." Norway sighed. "We might never see each other again."

_"We might never see each other again."_

Something was painfully familiar about that line.

With a loud bang, Norway slammed the door shut on his way out of Denmark's room.

_Buzz... Buzz... _

Denmark looked over to his nightstand, where his phone had two new notifications. He picked it up to see what it said.

_Ex: I saw you making out with another guy on your roof yesterday night. Are you kidding me?_

_Ex: And don't try to prove me wrong. I have photo evidence._

Denmark exhaled sharply, frustrated. Not being satisfied, he yelled. He entangled his fingers in his hair, stressed out.

"DAMN YOU ALL!"

Denmark walked over and kicked the nearest wall as hard as he could. Once again, he screamed, placing his head against the wall. Finally, he shakily took a breath, trying to compose himself.

Not apologizing to anyone in particular, he mumbled, "I'm sorry."


	3. An Apology Gift

Denmark took a sip from his drink, feeling the cold liquid enter his mouth. It tasted quite bland, as the ice had melted. Yet, he could still feel the cool temperature from the cup.

Spotting a nearby trash can, he threw the beverage away.

"What a waste of money," Denmark muttered to himself.

As he walked around, he could spot various stores — some doing well, some about to go out of business.

"I haven't been to the mall in a while," Denmark chuckled, "Not since Norway was too shy to go by himself." He sighed, remembering back to a few nights ago — when Norway left.

He shook his head and turned the corner, trying to escape from his thoughts. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, staring at the shop in front of him.

_This place, huh?_

"Ay, what are you doing outside? Come inside where it's better," the shop owner called.

Denmark smiled, almost fakely, and headed inside.

"How are you doing? It's been a while." The man laughed, shaking Denmark's hand.

"I'm good, you?"

"I'm doing great!" The owner paused, as if he were pondering something. "Hey, where's your good friend Norway? This is his favorite place in the mall."

Denmark froze, laughing awkwardly. "He's a bit sick today, unfortunately." That was a blatant lie.

"Oh. I hope he gets well soon. Tell him I'll give him a discount on our custom hair clips the next time he visits! He seems to really like the cross one I made for him. Take care, kid!"

"Of course. Thank you." Denmark walked back outside, sighing. "Maybe if I gave Norway a gift, he'd forgive me." Denmark snapped his fingers, beaming. "That's perfect! I could ask him to come over here, right now!"

In an impulse, he composed a text, sending it to Norway. Putting his phone in his pocket, he looked back at the store in front of him.

"Actually, sir, I might browse around for a bit. I'll get Norway a present!" Denmark re-entered the shop, heading to a random display shelf.

"That sounds like a great idea!" The store owner smiled.

"Now, what would he like?" Denmark muttered to himself.

While the shop was small, the shelves were abundant with jewelry. There were many colors and variations, making for a glamorous display. There were varieties of necklaces, bracelets, rings, and even anklets. In another section, there were numerous shelves full of hair accessories. It all made for a stunning shop appearance.

In fact, Denmark was a bit intimidated.

_Hmm, what would he like?_

Denmark knew Norway had an obsession with hair clips, so he decided to browse them first.

Many assortments lined the walls, each uniquely beautiful. Bows, hearts, letters — there were so many to choose from.

_That heart looks cute, but it's a bit too blunt._

Denmark grunted. This was going to be a bit more difficult than he anticipated. He glanced at his other options, considering them carefully. Finally, he stumbled upon a cute floral clip. He smiled, deciding that it was the clip he was going to buy.

_Perfect!_

—

Norway groaned, frustrated. His hair clips were scattered everywhere on the bathroom floor, as a result of dropping a box full of them.

Squatting down, he collected the clips in his hands. He grumbled to himself, hoping none of them broke in the fall.

He flinched, feeling a sharp object jabbing his finger.

_So it did break. _

Norway placed the clips back in the box, holding the fractured one in his hand. He threw it into a waste bin, making his way to the living room.

The nation reached for a brush and a remote control, sitting down on the couch. He turned the television on, switching to a news channel.

Sighing, he ran the brush through his hair. While it was unnecessary to do so, considering the short length of his hair, he still enjoyed the relaxing feeling it gave him.

While Norway was thoughtlessly combing his hair, he heard his phone vibrate on the stand next to him. Groaning, he reached for the gadget.

_Denmark: Hey, sorry about a few nights back. I'm at the mall right now, if you wanna meet up._

Norway sighed, tossing his phone aside. He wasn't in the mood to leave his comfortable home.

Almost coincidentally, the camera on TV switched to a scene in the mall. It was live, with an enthusiastic news reporter on screen. Norway smirked. _Why go outside when I can watch the mall on television? Plus, it's raining._

Sure enough, there was a slight drizzle outside, causing a small pitter-patter on the roof. It was just another relaxing day for the Norwegian.

Suddenly remembering the brush in his hair, he tried to remove it. Although he had fairly short hair, the comb was stuck.

Grunting, he clutched a part of his head, trying to yank the brush away. After a few tries, he finally got it out, losing a few strands of hair in the process. Frustrated, he tossed the brush away, deciding to focus on the TV instead.

Unfortunately, the screen went dark for a moment, before showing a studio full of panicked news anchors.

"We apologize for the abrupt pause in our mall segment. It appears that there has been a problem, which we are..." Another man whispered into the reporter's ear. "There has been a major problem! It appears that the mall has been bombed. We will update you as soon as we possibly can."

Norway froze, still trying to comprehend the words that came out of the reporter's mouth. _Bombed? As in, attacked? _He gasped, realizing the horror of the situation.

The nation rushed to retrieve his coat from a rack, pulling the article of clothing over him. Biting his lip, Norway dashed out onto his porch, realizing the rainstorm had gotten worse. _Great. I'll have to run in this terrible condition._

He locked the door behind him, bolting out into the heavy rain. Almost slipping on the sidewalk, Norway began running in a more cautious fashion. The downpour was making it more difficult to run, and he was thanking his past self for joining the high school cross country team. If he hadn't, he would be completely exhausted by now.

Norway began to reconsider his thoughts. Perhaps he should've bought a car sooner; that way, he wouldn't be running in the rain like a maniac, getting terribly soaked.

Maybe, if he had a car, he'd be able to get to the mall faster and potentially save Denmark from this disaster. In fact, why was he running when there was no chance that Denmark survived?

Norway shook his head, concentrating on running faster, as if it'd make a difference. While he still held a grudge against Denmark for his actions a few nights before, he couldn't bare to see him hurt.

_In fact, was it even Denmark's fault?_

As the mall began to come into Norway's sight, he picked up the pace, only to be stopped by a patrolling officer.

"I'm sorry, sir. This area will be blocked off for a while. There's been an accident."

"But-" Norway sighed. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Go home and stay safe. It's pouring out here." The officer laughed, walking away.

It's not like anyone could get in. There was a perimeter of police tape around the mall. Plus, the officer still had a lot of work to do, considering the amount of people crowded around the area.

Inside the perimeter were police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances — anything that would be expected in an emergency situation.

Norway sighed. Perhaps he really _should_ go home and wait. But as he was about to turn his heel, a crew of paramedics walked outside of the mall, bringing a cot with them. On the cot was a bloodied-up body — barely recognizable. The man appeared unconscious, dead, even.

Although the individual was dreadfully beaten up, Norway could still identify who it was. He gasped, already feeling tears pool in his eyes. He felt nauseous, not used to seeing so much blood on such a strong and jubilant individual.

"Denmark," he whispered to himself. Raising his voice to a shout, Norway screamed, "Denmark!" He could feel the heat rushing to his face. "What are you going to do with him?!"

A paramedic looked in Norway's direction, hearing his hoarse cries. He passed Norway a sympathetic gaze, before raising the cot into the ambulance.

"No!"

People began to stare at Norway, but he didn't care. His first goal was to get to the hospital as soon as he could, so he could see what they were going to do to Denmark.

The ambulance began to pull away, sirens screeching and all.

In a hurry, Norway pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling a taxi.

Within a few minutes, a car pulled up near the mall, and Norway dashed into it.

"Get me to the nearest hospital, please."

The driver obeyed, heading towards the direction the ambulance went.

—

"Have you seen a patient named Mathias?!" Norway shouted the question to the lady at the front desk.

"I'm pretty sure he's in room 204, located in the ICU. But I am afraid the doctors won't-"

"Thank you!" Norway began to dash towards Denmark's room.

"Let you in." The receptionist sighed.

_204\. 204. 204._ Norway repeated the number in his head, before finally locating a room with _204 _beside it. He peered inside, getting a glimpse of a barely conscious Denmark.

Before he could react, a nurse tapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry, sir. Only medical professionals are allowed in the ICU rooms. Perhaps you could pay Mathias a visit later."

"What? I-" Norway was dumbfounded. He finally realized he couldn't do _anything _to save Denmark from his terrible conditions.


	4. Regaining Consciousness

Out of everything to wake up to, waking up to pain is surely the worst feeling in the world.

It's similar to blatant torture — a constant burning in the legs, a pounding in the head, and an inability to speak due to injured vocal chords.

It's like a brutal game of mix and match — pairing symptoms of all kinds. Nausea could be paired with a terrible ache in the bones, or even a heavy weight in the chest.

But to Denmark, the pain seemed to be everywhere. He didn't even know how he got to the hospital. It certainly didn't help to see his whole body doused in blood, either. He had a migraine.

Shouting in fear and agony would be his first instinct, but he could only manage a hoarse whisper.

And where was Norway?

"Lu… kas…"

"Hmm?" A nurse looked up from their clipboard, facing Denmark.

The nurse appeared oddly familiar to Denmark. Something about the short blond hair and unnecessarily thick eyebrows were flicking a switch in his brain.

A man stood beside him; he also had blond hair, but it was tied into a messy bun.

"What I'm saying is, we should keep trying to stop his external bleeding for now," The nurse spoke.

"No! We need to check for internal bleeding first," The man with the messy bun said.

"Oh shut up, Bonnefoy. You don't want the poor guy to bleed to death, do you?"

"He can _still _bleed out from the inside."

"I _know_!"

"You guys need to totally shut up! He _obviously _needs more meds. He's in, like, so much pain right now. Right?" Another blond male glanced over in Denmark's direction.

He simply nodded his head, not wanting to interfere with the bickering.

"There. I'll go get some more, and you two should totally figure out what you're going to do like real professionals."

"Oh _pu-lease_, Feliks! The only reason you got a job at _this _hospital was so you could _copulate _with Toris during break."

The nurse who was supposedly named "Feliks" gave his colleague a sharp glare before strutting out of the room.

"Where's… Lukas..?" Denmark muttered.

The man with the messy blond hair looked down at Denmark, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Denmark could feel the anger building up inside him. All the doctor had to give him was _a sympathetic look_, while he couldn't even cooperate with his colleagues. He knew what the smile meant; he couldn't see Norway.

Raising his voice sharply, Denmark shouted, "Where's Lukas?!" The words put a strain on his throat, and he went into a coughing fit.

Yet, the doctor still didn't speak. He still gave Denmark that dumb expression. It was starting to irk him.

"I'm sorry, but," The man paused, "We don't know."

"So… He could've been there when the whole mall blew up! Er… or when whatever happened. I don't really know…" Denmark groaned. "Ugh! It must all be _my _fault! For all I know, he could be _dead_!"

"We… don't know."

In fact, both the doctor and nurses didn't even know _who _Lukas was.

—

"So, did you two finally figure something out while I was-" Feliks paused himself. "Arthur, Francis, something wrong?"

Dr. Bonnefoy had a hand on the Englishman's back, and both of them were hanging their heads. Francis turned around, leaning towards Feliks to whisper something in his ear.

Feliks placed a hand on his mouth with a shocked expression on his face.

"So, do I give him the meds or no?"

Francis didn't speak a word, only shushing him and gesturing for him to treat Mathias. "It's better painless."

Upon reaching Mathias at his bed, Feliks saw him in a worse condition than he was only a few minutes ago. He was groaning softly, barely rocking from side to side. His bruised and roughly bandaged arms were wrapped around his body, trying to keep himself warm, despite the blanket that covered him.

"Hey, I'm just going to need your arm for a second, okay?" Feliks only noticed the shivering then.

"I want to see Lukas."

"There's no need! Lukas is probably fine, mon cher." Francis ran a hand through Denmark's hair, in an effort to comfort him.

To Mathias, everything was wrong. Why was a random doctor running a hand through _his _hair? The only reason he barely combed his hair was so Norway could comb it for him, with his soft and gentle fingers.

It reminded him of his graduation night — the moment before he fell asleep.

Norway was under the covers with him, smiling for once. He played around with Denmark's hair, commenting on how he should brush it more often. He lowered his hand onto Denmark's cheek, kissing it softly, before erupting into giggles.

Oh, how badly Denmark wanted to hear that laugh again. If he could, that would be the last thing he'd want to hear before he died.

But he couldn't.

Norway didn't love him. He didn't remember anything about their intimate night together.

"_If I could, I'd love you forever."_His deep voice was such a calming sound — one that he wished could sing him to sleep on rough nights.

It frightened him to see how much Norway changed that following morning. His voice was no longer sweet. Instead, it had a sharp edge to it — like the edge of his prized axe, sitting in a display case in his home.

Denmark felt more nauseous than he already was. Even the cold atmosphere became more prominent to him.

"Mathias, are you okay?" Arthur questioned.

Francis hit Arthur, deeming his question a stupid one.

"I bet Lukas doesn't even care about me right now. I bet he doesn't even want to see me."

"Now, who told you that? I'm sure he misses you a lot," Francis commented.

_They really don't know, do they?_ Denmark thought.

He could feel his heart beating faintly in his chest, barely keeping him alive. His breaths were becoming longer and heavier, and it was getting harder to inhale and exhale with every passing second.

"No," Denmark muttered, "I know he doesn't miss me."

And with those words, Mathias Køhler drew his last breath.


	5. Spirits

No matter how hard he tried, Norway couldn't shake the image of a wounded Denmark from his mind. The scene was traumatizing.

Even if he tried to pick up a fork, he instantly gagged at the sight of any food.

Instead of eating, Norway decided it would be best to grab his favorite book and sit down on the couch. But even through the heartwarming stories, Denmark was in the back of his mind.

Finally, he gave up, setting the book aside. He stood up and headed towards his room. Though before he could reach it, he heard a small buzzing from his kitchen island.

Norway sighed. He didn't want to text anyone in his shocked and suddenly-depressed phase. Yet, the buzzing was persistent.

It reminded him of Denmark.

Although he really didn't want to, he allowed himself to walk over to the kitchen counter and pick up the phone.

It was the hospital.

Norway thought it was odd; why would the hospital call _him_?

Not giving it much thought, he answered the call, placing the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hello there. It seems you are on the top of Mathias' emergency contact numbers, yes?"

"I suppose."

"Oh, good then! I've contacted the right person." The woman let out a sigh. "I've got some news for you, sir."

"News?"

"Yes." The receptionist paused. "The doctors have been doing chest compressions on Mathias for the past twenty minutes. Unfortunately, he was unable to be saved and passed away."

"Excuse me? I don't believe I heard you correctly."

"Mathias passed away. We're very sorry."

"He pa-... I see. Thank you for calling."

"Once again, we are very sorry for your loss. Have a safe evening."

The call ended.

Norway thought he was going to go insane. He felt an uncomfortable energy building up in his chest. He felt nauseated, and wanted so badly to vomit. He wanted to cry.

But he couldn't. The shock covered up his pain.

He let out a stress-filled scream, hoping the neighbors wouldn't be disturbed. He felt as if he was burning yet felt terribly cold at the same time. He couldn't tell if his shivers were the result of the overwhelming amount of emotions he felt or if they were the result of his body temperature.

He needed so badly to forget. He didn't think he had the mental capacity to take on so much pain and burden.

Desperately, he stumbled over to a cabinet he hadn't touched in years. Upon opening it, shelves of unopened bottles could be seen, each filled to the brim with alcohol.

Not considering a thing, Norway snatched a random bottle from the shelves. He took out an old corkscrew from the same cabinet, opening the bottle with it.

Taking a deep breath beforehand, he brought the bottle to his mouth, taking a large drink from it. It was definitely not the best thing he'd tasted, yet he could still feel the same euphoria rushing into his body, just like it did the night with Denmark.

Pushing himself away from the kitchen island, he took a seat at his nearby dining table, still holding the bottle in his hand.

The table was as empty as it could be. Norway could hear the clock ticking from across the living room. The emptiness was an overload to his senses.

In an attempt to escape, he turned his attention to a nearby window. The stars were still as beautiful as the many nights before.

"_Peaceful, isn't it? The view's my favorite part."_

Norway shook his head. No matter what he did, he couldn't get Denmark out of his thoughts. He was engraved into his mind.

Norway took another swig from the bottle in front of him.

_Maybe if I drink enough, I'll die._

So he drank. He drank until he could barely stand. He drank until his speech was incoherent.

Yet, the blood-red color of the wine still reminded him of the persistent image stuck in his head. It made him sicker than he already felt.

In fact, he had to harshly grip the edge of his table to keep himself from passing out. His chest was burning.

His inebriated state was the only thing that kept him from being miserable due to his terrible nausea.

He felt a strong urge to vomit. No matter how strongly he gripped his table, he couldn't stop himself from upchucking his stomach's contents — not like there was much, anyway.

The disgusting fluid still dribbled from his chin, yet Norway didn't bother wiping it away.

He felt filthy with his soiled clothes on. The room smelled awful.

Sighing, Norway decided it would be best to clean himself up.

That's it; he'd take a quick shower and head off to bed.

Then, he could finally rest.

—

Even a quick shower and a change of clothes proved difficult for an intoxicated man.

In fact, Norway vomited a few more times in his shower.

Yet in the end, he still made it to his bed in a clean state.

The soft fibers of his pillow and blanket were enough to lull a mentally exhausted Norway to sleep.


	6. You (Will) Miss Me

His steps had never felt so heavy before. Getting closer to Denmark's casket, he felt like collapsing.

Finally, he could see the lifeless body in front of him. Every burn, cut, and scrape was more noticeable than it was before. The smile that once adorned Denmark's face was gone. Instead, he wore a face of pain.

_His last moments were spent unhappily._

It drove Norway to near insanity. The look plastered on Mathias' face was terribly uncharacteristic.

_Perhaps this really was my fault, _Norway thought.

Norway saw the endless possibilities in his mind. Instead of laying in a casket, Denmark could be laying in a meadow beside him. They could point out the trees in front of them and the crescent in the night sky.

_Denmark would be as alive as ever._

The thought messed with Norway. He felt like bursting into tears, but he couldn't. He wasn't the only one in the room. Emotions would only make him more vulnerable.

Yet, he still couldn't face the fact that this would be the last time he could see Denmark. After his burial, Denmark would merely dance around in pictures.

_He'd give anything to bring Denmark back. _

He sighed. "My apologies, Mathias."

Silence.

Norway chuckled. He couldn't believe himself. "I must be stupid to talk to a corpse."

He placed a hand on his own forehead, closing his eyes.

"It's okay, Norge."

Norway snapped his head up in surprise. _Who said that?_

He glanced around, only to see nothing.

"No, over here." The voice laughed.

Still nothing.

"Do I really have to guide you?"

Norway could feel a tap on his shoulder — one that sent shivers down his spine. Almost afraid, he turned around, only to be shocked out of his mind. He almost tripped over his own feet.

"Norge, stop that!" The figure frowned. "Am I really that scary?"

"Denmark, you're alive?!"

"Alive as I could ever be. What did you think?"

"I can't believe it. I _must _be dreaming." Norway shook his head, to no avail. "You have no idea how I feel right now."

"It's not that difficult to guess."

"I don't think you understand." Norway paused. "You're dead."

"But… I'm alive! You see me, don't you?" Denmark almost panicked. "I can still touch you!"

"Clearly, you haven't seen your body."

"My body's here, right in front of you!"

Norway walked up to Denmark's casket, pointing inside of it. "No, you're in there."

Denmark peered into the casket. "I don't see me. It's empty."

Norway scoffed; Surely this had to be a joke. Yet, when he peered inside of the coffin, nothing could be seen.

Suddenly, he could feel two arms wrapping around him. He felt a small gush of wind pass through his hair.

Upon looking up, he saw grass underneath his feet, and an open sky above him.

"Look, Norge. Isn't this where you _want _to be? Wouldn't it be nice to share a drink under the warm sun?"

"This is impossible. Let me go!" Norway elbowed Denmark in the gut.

Denmark let go of the Norwegian. "Ow, why did you do that?"

"I need to go back. The others must be worried sick!"

"Please, stick with me for just a few moments. I don't want you to leave!"

"Well, I can't just abandon my family."

"Fine. Just give me one chance."

Norway sighed. Denmark wasn't going to back down. "Alright."

Once more, the two could feel the rushing of wind, before they arrived in a different location.

This time, the scent of the ocean was prominent, and seagulls could be seen all around. A bell could be heard from a nearby port.

A familiar voice could be heard from the distance. "It's time to set sail!"

Norway flinched. The voice sounded like his own. Upon squinting at the nearby port, he could see a man waving as his boat begun to sail. That man had the same hair clip as Norway.

Norway gasped. "Is that me?!"

Denmark laughed as if the question was an obvious one. "Of course it is! I'm on that same boat. So, do you like this reality?"

"Reality..?"

Denmark chuckled. "I thought you would know. Nations don't die like humans do. We merely… pass on to these different realities." The Dane smiled. "It would be really nice if you could come with me."

Norway frowned. "I'm sorry, Denmark. The rest of my family's probably waiting for me, still. I can't go with you, as much as I want to."

"But, I won't remember you once I leave! I won't remember _any _of my past reality!"

"This probably isn't the first time you've done this, then. It'll be okay, Den."

"I love you, Norge. You don't know how difficult this is for me."

"Look at me, Denmark." Norway allowed himself a small smile. "No matter how far we are, I'll still love you with all my heart. Do you understand?"

"I do."

Norway stared into Denmark's eyes. Pain still lined his expression.

"Please, be happy, alright?" Norway landed a soft kiss onto Denmark's lips. "Maybe we'll meet in another reality someday."

Denmark grinned. "I really hope we do. I'll be waiting!"

Norway could feel tears rush to his eyes, and a lump form in his throat. "Go on! Go on before I cry."

"Goodbye, Norway."

And with that statement, Norway's vision faded to black.

—

Norway could faintly hear a monitor beeping next to him. Upon opening his eyes, he was overwhelmed by the brightness of the hospital lights.

"Mom, Dad, I think he's awake!"

"What?! Oh, someone get Iceland!"

Norway attempted to move, to no avail. Something was holding him down. "Let me go! Where am I?"

"We really thought you were going to leave us — like Denmark! Oh, thank goodness!"

Norway turned his head towards the voice. "Finland?"

"You remember! You have no idea how worried we were! You were in a coma for a month!"

_A month?_ Norway didn't remember staying with Denmark for _that _long.

"Norway! We were worried sick!" It was Iceland. "You could've left me alone with _these_ idiots!"

Norway smiled. _Nothing's changed._

"Hey!" Sealand pouted.

Finland interjected, "We're just happy that you're okay."

Norway smirked. "I'm glad."

—

A/N: Whew, I didn't write an author's note in a while!

Nevertheless, I'd like to thank everyone who read this fanfiction. I really appreciate the support!

Also, I'm sorry for taking a long time to upload a few chapters. There were times when I didn't know what to write next! I hope that is alright.

Once more, thank you for reading!


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